As Long As We Remember
by Louise Hargadon
Summary: Slight A/U oneshot. Losing the Professor hits Ginger very hard indeed. Gilligan offers her a much-needed shoulder to cry on, as only Gilligan can. Warnings for character death, although the story is set after the fact.


_**A/N:** I was SO upset to hear that the delightful, delicious and de-lovely **Russell Johnson** had died. Far more than I expected. I didn't sleep much last night thinking about it. I didn't discover Gilligan's Island until a couple of years ago thanks to some very determined brainwashing by two lovely ladies, but I am so grateful that I did. What a show. What a legacy he's left. I'm sure there'll be a plethora of Professor-related fics uploaded here, but I thought I'd drop my two penn'orth in anyway. _

_This story is slightly A/U in that the castaways never left the Island at all, and is set many years after the series finished. Expect equal amounts of MAG and PINGER. _

_Dedicated with squishy hugs to THE Gilligan Girls, **Teobi** and **JWood201**, and with love to all who knew and knew of our beloved Professor Hinkley._

_**Disclaimer: Gilligan's Island** still belongs to **Sherwood Schwartz** and always will do. **Professor** still belongs to **Ginger** and, just as they ever have done, **Gilligan** and **Mary Ann** belong to each other. Thus shall it ever be._

**As Long as We Remember**

"Ginger! _Ginger_!"

Ginger's eyes slowly flickered open and she looked around the hut. She couldn't see who was speaking to her, although that didn't really surprise her, as her eyesight had been getting rather fuzzy lately.

"Yes?" she whispered, slightly confused. She had no idea who could be calling her at this time of night. Gilligan and Mary Ann were usually sound asleep by now, Gilligan's unmistakable snores reverberating around the Island, while he wrapped one arm tightly around Mary Ann's waist in his sleep and unconsciously gave her hand a loving squeeze as he dreamed his unfathomable Gilligan Dreams. Some nights, when he went off to the other side of the Island on a late-night fishing trip, Mary Ann found that she simply couldn't sleep without his snoring next to her. Everywhere felt a little colder and she felt a little less sure of herself when he wasn't next to her.

"It's me."

She now sensed that the voice came from the doorway, and let out a gasp of surprise as she saw a familiar figure leaning against the threshold.

"Professor!"

Without pausing for thought, she flung her bedclothes back, leaped out of bed and ran towards him. She stopped suddenly after three steps as she realised that she hadn't moved so quickly in years. The moonlight flooded the hut and, glancing in the mirror, she saw that her hair was no longer white, that her posture was more erect and that the wrinkles that had been foisted onto her beautiful face years ago had now vanished. Frowning in confusion, she looked up at the Professor. His silvery grey hair was now the dark brown it had been when they had first met. His kindly old face was now as strong and handsome as it had ever been, his blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. His blue shirt clung to the contours of his torso more tightly than Ginger could ever remember it doing before, and he had generally never looked more perfect to her than he did at that moment.

"I don't understand, I thought you were... gone," she said, her big green eyes brimming with tears as her voice cracked over the last word. He shook his head and grabbed both of her hands in his.

"Of course not. I'd never leave you. How could I?" he said, pulling her gently towards him and wrapping his strong arms around her. She clung to him silently for a few moments, her eyes closed as she committed to memory every detail of his embrace. How warm his body felt next to her, how she could feel his heart beating gently next to hers, the way his stubbled face gently grazed against her cheek, how he always seemed to smell of soap and coconuts, how soft and thick his hair was as she ran her fingers through it.

"I never got chance to say goodbye or to tell you I love you," she said, a tear brimming over her eyelid and trickling down her face. He brushed the tear away with his thumb and shook his head.

"Ginger, I know you love me. I love you too. I can't even remember a time that I didn't love you. How could I ever leave you?" he asked, a slow smile spreading from the right side of his mouth until his whole face lit up. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers as he had done a million times before, completely unafraid of bacterial transfer or the problems associated with kissing both Ginger's lips at the same time.

"Wow," Ginger sighed. She opened her eyes and wondered why the sunlight now flooded the room. She looked around and saw no sign of the Professor. Looking down at her hands, she saw that they were wrinkled and the dark age spots she had grown used to seeing had returned. Her face fell and the heavy ache in her heart returned as she realised that it had all been a dream. It had been two weeks and the Professor was still gone. Of course he was still gone. He could never come back now.

Ginger felt no need to hurry these days as she slowly brushed her hair and put on an old dress. Over the years her long gowns had been taken apart and refashioned, but the white one had always been the Professor's favourite and Ginger had never had the heart to destroy it. Where most wives would wear black in mourning, Ginger's insistence on wearing the white dress indicated that not a moment went by without her missing her beloved Professor. Ginger didn't know why she never called him 'Roy', even after all these years. She supposed it just didn't suit him as well as 'Professor' did.

Deciding to skip breakfast and take a walk instead, she slipped out of her hut, keeping her head down and hoping that Gilligan and Mary Ann wouldn't see her. Of course, they did.

"Say, Mary Ann, Ginger shouldn't keep skipping breakfast. She'll make herself sick," Gilligan said, eyeing the tall stack of pancakes Mary Ann had laid out.

"She misses the Professor, Gilligan," Mary Ann answered, gently. He shrugged.

"I miss him too. But she shouldn't skip breakfast. The Professor always said breakfast is the most important meal of the day - and he should know, he always was the smartest guy on the Island!" he said. "I'll go talk to her."

"All right. But don't let these pancakes go cold," Mary Ann said with a smile. Gilligan grinned wolfishly and kissed the tip of her nose.

"I'd never let your pancakes get cold, Mary Ann!" he said, his blue-green eyes twinkling with mischief. Mary Ann giggled and shook her head as he turned and followed Ginger down the beach. "Ginger! Hey, Ginger! Wait up!" he called, taking his hat off and waving it madly in the air to get her attention. Ginger stopped walking but didn't turn around.

"Good morning, Gilligan," she said, sadly, her shoulders dropped and her gaze firmly downwards. Gilligan pursed his lips and scratched his head before speaking.

"Ginger, y'know - you can't keep skipping meals," he told her, squeezing her shoulder. "I can't eat like I used to, I can't keep having your breakfast for you," he said, patting his belly. "I'm starting to look like the Skipper!" Ginger smiled gratefully.

"I know. I'm just... I guess I'm just not hungry," she said. She let out a heavy sigh and the two of them stood in silence for a few moments.

"I miss the Professor, too," Gilligan finally said. Ginger looked at him. "I guess people didn't see it too much, but he wasn't just smart. He was a funny guy. He made me laugh." Ginger nodded her agreement, smiling fondly at the memory of the Professor's little idiosyncrasies and mannerisms that always amused her.

"He made me laugh too."

"Y'know something? I never understood half of what he said, when he started talking in Science," Gilligan said, slapping his hat back on his white head.

"I'll let you in on a secret, Gilligan," Ginger said, beckoning him closer to her. "Nobody understood half of what the Professor said!" They both laughed. "Smartest guy on the island, he built us an entire satellite system out of coconuts and bamboo, yet we still stayed on the Island all this time. Did you ever wonder why that was?" Ginger asked. Gilligan shrugged.

"I guess he just didn't know much about boats," he said, simply. Ginger smiled at Gilligan's simple yet infallible logic and shook her head.

"I always thought it was because he actually really loved it here, he never wanted to leave. He sort of looked on the rest of us as family. I don't think he had much of that back home. In time, I guess he just viewed this place as home. I guess we all do," she answered. Gilligan nodded.

"Those of us that are left," he agreed. "This place sure feels emptier now. Gosh, Ginger - I always thought, if it came down to it, I'd like to go before Mary Ann," he said. Ginger's eyes widened in surprise.

"Why on earth would you want that, Gilligan? Think how sad Mary Ann would be without you!" she said. He shrugged.

"Mary Ann knows how to take care of herself, she'd be all right. But me without Mary Ann? I wouldn't last five minutes!" he said. "I think you're real brave, Ginger. You and me are the same like that. I know you don't think you could last without the Professor, either."

"You're right, Gilligan. I don't think I can," she said, her eyes filling with tears. Gilligan slipped his arms around Ginger and squeezed her tightly.

"You've still got Mary Ann and me. We'll last out together, all of us. Just you wait and see," he said, his eyes screwed tightly shut with the fervour of his promise.

"I miss him so much, Gilligan," she sobbed. Gilligan didn't answer at first, he just let Ginger cry for a while as he hugged her. He had grown so used to Ginger by now that he didn't get flustered by her frequent shows of emotion or recoil when she tried to be tactile. He was older too, now. He understood that sometimes people just needed to be themselves, and all Gilligan could do was be a friend to whichever version of Ginger she needed to show at any given moment.

"Y'know, Ginger," he finally said, "When the Skipper died, it was really rough. The Skipper was my best big buddy in the whole world. We'd been buddies together for years before we got stranded here. I felt like my leg had been cut off or... or I'd lost my catapult or something," he said. "Sometimes it got me sad just thinking about him, so I tried not to think about him. But after a while, I started thinking of how he'd feel if he knew how sad I was. He'd say, 'C'mon, little buddy, don't be sad - you're my little buddy!' and we'd go fishing together, or he'd tell me a joke. He always knew just what to say and do to cheer me up. He was swell like that."

"You still miss him?" Ginger asked. Gilligan nodded.

"All the time. But the more I started remembering him, and thinking how he'd feel if he knew I was sad, and the things he'd say or do - the less it hurt to miss him, because it sorta felt like he was still here. It wasn't the same. But it didn't hurt so much. Maybe... y'know... someday - if we keep thinking about the Professor, maybe he'll still feel close to us, like he's here. That way, he can't really be gone. Nobody's really truly gone, not as long as we remember them," Gilligan said. He suddenly blushed and looked at the sand. "That probably didn't sound right. Mary Ann's better at this stuff than me. All I wanted was to tell you breakfast was ready."

Ginger wiped her eyes and straightened her back. She took a few deep breaths and nodded before slipping her arm through Gilligan's.

"All right. We'd best not let the pancakes get cold. Mary Ann will have our hides!" she said. At first she thought she'd forced a smile, but soon found that it had just come naturally.

As they walked, the sun peeped out at them from behind a cloud, and Ginger felt one of the sun's rays brush her cheek gently. For a brief moment it almost felt as though the Professor had stroked her cheek one last time. It wasn't the same, Gilligan was right - but somehow she felt that it gave her just enough strength to at least make it through breakfast for the first time in two weeks. The Professor couldn't truly leave her, not while she still loved him the way that she did. She squeezed Gilligan's arm lovingly and briefly rested her her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Gilligan."

"For what, Ginger?" Gilligan asked. Ginger squeezed his arm again and shrugged.

"For just being you."

**THE END**


End file.
